A Castle Hug
by LittleLizzieZentara
Summary: She must be more tired than she'd thought because at that moment, more than anything, Kate wanted a hug. A Castle hug. A birthday present for EvaKAlways. Possible spoilers for any and all episodes. Set during the season 2 two-parter.


**Happy birthday, Eva! How could I not write a Castle fan fic for your birthday? :)**

 **Disclaimer: If I owned Castle, season 8 would have been completely different. For one, Kate would have been pregnant at the beginning of it, and we would have had the first Castle baby (Lily Castle, of course) and then a time jump at the end of the last episode of the season to the time we saw in the last minute or so of the real finale. And we would have had a season 9 set in that time period. How that would have worked since the show, in contrast to the majority of fan fics, is case centric as opposed to Caskett centric, I have no idea. But it could have worked. Somehow.**

* * *

Staring was creepy. She had told Castle that countless times over the last year and some odd months.

So why couldn't she look away?

At least he was sleeping and completely unaware of Kate's hypocrisy.

And her vulnerability.

Kate couldn't remember the last time she felt like this. Her eyes kept drinking in the sight of Castle lying on her couch, arms stretched, hands behind his head. Her gaze kept darting around, seeking a safe place to rest. But nowhere was safe for her. Not when it came to looking at Castle. Every part of him inspired feelings she didn't want to feel, thoughts she didn't want to think.

At the precinct it was easy to divert her attention to safer ground. Even when she did catch herself looking at him for a beat too long, there was usually too much going on for her to have more than a stray thought of how his smile made her heart beat faster or that brush of his fingers against hers when he handed her the coffee left tingles behind that lasted a lot longer than they should.

But now she was here, in her apartment, with nowhere to go.

Well, she could _go_. Just leave. Go for a run.

Or something.

Except she really shouldn't. Being out in the open like that, exposed, was not a good idea. Not with a deranged serial killer fixated on her.

Her eyes were on his chest now, watching as it slowly rose and fell with his breaths.

She hadn't really noticed before, but the man had the perfect body for hugging. Not too hard, like the bodybuilder she had briefly dated while at Stanford. Not too soft, either, where it would feel more like hugging a pillow instead of a man.

Nope, he was just right.

And now she was freaking Goldilocks!

All she needed was a blonde wig. Which she probably had around her somewhere from her days when she worked vice.

She must be more tired than she'd thought because at that moment, more than anything, Kate wanted a hug.

A Castle hug.

Kate was not a hugger by nature. She wasn't one who wanted to cuddle after sex. Or any other time. She frowned as she realized she had touched Castle-usually trying to push him away, but she still did technically have her hands on him-more than she had anyone else. Including the guys she'd slept with, if she left out the times that were more than G-rated out of the equation.

"Just couldn't stay away, Beckett?"

"Castle!" His name burst from her lips on a startled gasp.

He was awake?

How could she have missed that?

Even with eyes closed, there were signs when a person was only pretending to be asleep. Breathing patterns changed, the body became more tense and alert…. Castle must have inherited more acting abilities from his mother than she realized.

"You said staring was creepy," Castle said as his eyes slowly opened. Amusement mixed with something Kate would rather not name filled the blue orbs. "You lied to me, detective. Staring is anything but creepy."

"I wasn't-" Kate tried to deny.

"Oh, you most definitely were. I could feel your eyes on me. You seemed especially interested in my chest. Not the area I thought you would focus in on, I'll admit. I would have thought it would be my-"

"CASTLE!"

Castle's grin widened. "I was going to say hair, Beckett. It is as soft as it looks, if you were wondering."

'Hair' was _not_ the part of his anatomy he had been about to mention. Kate would bet her badge on it.

"Come on, don't be shy," Castle attempted to coax her. "Feel for yourself."

"Castle, I don't want to touch your hair." Not a completely honest statement, especially at the moment. But she had learned years ago not to feed the animals. And this animal was more unpredictable and uncontrollable than most.

"What part _do_ you want to touch, Beckett?" He spread his arms wide. "Touch anything you want. My body is completely at your disposal."

Kate could usually roll her eyes or laugh off his innuendoes. Or give back as good as she got. Right now, though, she was itching for her gun. Not that she wanted to commit murder. No, she just wanted to create some noise. Noise that would get him to _stop_. Shoot out a window or two and make him pay for the repairs. That would make her feel a little better.

Castle didn't know it, but he was mocking the most vulnerable moment Kate had had in years. Which was making Kate feel even _more_ vulnerable. Her emotions were too close to the surface for her to be able to just shrug it off as Castle being Castle, as she normally would have done. But if she left, went back to the sanctuary of her room, he would _know_.

Nothing could be worse than that.

"Don't believe me?" Castle asked. "Let me prove it to y-"

"A hug, Castle," Kate snapped when his hands went to the bottom of his night shirt. She shoved aside the mental question as irrelevant of whether that shirt was for her benefit or if he covered up his what she had no doubt was a magnificent chest every night. "Not running my fingers through your hair. Not touching your chest or any other part of you. Just…."

"A hug?" Castle's tone didn't hold the disappointment or disbelief she was expecting. Instead he sounded…concerned?

Why?

So, she wanted a hug. Or had wanted a hug. She wasn't entirely sure what she wanted at the moment. Except for this conversation to end as quickly as possible. Asking him what he was concerned about might prolong the conversation she wished had never gotten started in the first place, so she kept her mouth firmly closed.

"Kate." Castle's use of her first name wasn't something she had been expecting. She wasn't sure he'd ever called her anything other than 'Beckett' or 'Detective' before now. Kate wanted to run, literally and figuratively, when Castle rose from the couch and made his way over to her. But backing down, running away, was not something Kate Beckett did. Not from suspects, not from killers, and certainly not from writers. Kate knew that wasn't entirely fair; Castle was more than a writer and had been surprisingly helpful on most, if not all of their cases since he started shadowing her. But it didn't change the facts: Kate Beckett didn't run.

Suddenly Kate found herself in the last place she had ever expected to be: wrapped firmly in Castle's arms. It happened so fast that she didn't realize her head was pressed against his chest until she heard his heartbeat beneath her ear.

His hold tightened when Kate snuggled deeper into his embrace. It wasn't something she did with any conscious thought. It was like some weird emotional instinct. She would have been embarrassed at such a move, but she was too comfortable for that.

A few seconds from now she would be mortified, maybe even horrified, at her actions.

But wait, seconds? Why only seconds? If she was going to be beating herself up for days, if not weeks, about her actions anyway, why not make it worth it. Minutes sounded _much_ better than seconds.

Except what would Castle think? A few seconds could classify as a hug. Minutes wouldn't be hugging, it would be holding. Maybe even cuddling.

Kate's contentment fled at the thought.

Something must have tipped Castle off because he immediately dropped his arms and stepped back, giving her the space she needed.

"You give great hugs, Castle." Complimenting Castle was something Kate usually tried to avoid; his ego was big enough already. But it was the first thing that popped into her mind to hide that although she had needed the hug to end, she hadn't wanted it to.

"I've never had any complaints before."

She just bet he hadn't.

His next words made Kate's gut twist with guilt for her previous thought. "Alexis always says that my hugs make anything better. Scrapped knees, less than a perfect grade on any assignments from kindergarten on, teasing from girls who don't realize how perfect my daughter really is…."

Kate had to agree with the girl. If she got a Castle hug after every disappointment in life, it would make everything better for her, too.

Not that she'd ever tell him that.

"She's very lucky," Kate told him seriously. "You're a great dad."

Kate was well aware she had just given Castle two compliments mere seconds apart. But no matter the circumstances, she wouldn't have held this one back. Castle was a wonderful father and he deserved as many compliments about it that she could give him.

"They're not just for Alexis, you know."

For a second Kate wasn't sure what he meant. The last thing she wanted from Castle was to be treated like a daughter.

"You can have a hug any time you want."

Kate knew she shouldn't be surprised by the blanket invitation, but she was. While it was true that 'he touched things' hugs tended to be purely platonic affairs most of the time. So she waited for the innuendo to follow.

Except it didn't.

The temptation to take him up on his offer, right that very second in fact, was almost irresistible. Her Goldilocks prediction had been right. His body was pure perfection.

For hugging, anyway….

Oh, who was she kidding? Everything about him pointed to his body being perfect for everything else, too.

Not that she was going to be testing _that_ theory.

Not any time soon, anyway.

* * *

 **Because I would argue Kate's insistence that she didn't run from things-the summer after her shooting is a perfect example-I want to mention that is how I thought Kate would think during a situation like this. It was in no way meant to be a blanket statement of fact. Since, you know, it's not. :)**


End file.
